Diamonds and Pearls
by Melacka
Summary: There is a long time between the Final Battle and the Happily Ever After for these characters. Somewhere in between, Harry learns the difference between diamonds and pearls.


AN: Takes place about a year after the Final Battle. What if Harry didn't slip right into the life described in the Epilogue? A lot can happen in between the Final Battle and Happily Ever After.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, just taking them out for a spin.

* * *

"Closing time!"

Harry hated it when they said that. He hated that every single person in the room with him hated it as well. Harry raised his eyes to perform an unsteady scan of the room, indifferent to the brawl in one corner. Harry knew most of the faces around him, though he couldn't match all of them to a body. These days everyone was just a face and an unrecognisable jumble of limbs. The regulars were always the ones grumbling at the end of the night at being forced out of the establishment. Harry hated that he was now considered a regular. He could sit down and say the usual and not be concerned about what he'd end up with, not that he was particularly prone to concern lately. Harry hated being a regular in this place, situated in a grimy keyhole of Britain. He only came back here because he didn't want to think of somewhere else to go and something else to do. A Muggle owned it and he enjoyed the relative anonymity that their ignorance provided.

Harry turned his eyes to the owner of the establishment; he seemed to be happy enough with the day's earnings to close for the night. He took in the man's grimy, nail-bitten hands, sweat-stained clothes that were spread over his disobliging stomach and his mass of jowls quivering as he yelled at the brawlers, with a look of undisguised hatred on his face. He moved his gaze to the man's eyes, unusually large and perpetually blood shot, and Harry knew that he was happy. That man with all his arrogance and overbearing was undoubtedly happy. Harry hated him for it.

"Come on, you lot! We're closing up! Either take a room or bugger off!"

Not many people seemed inclined to take the former option, downing their drinks in greedy resentment and glaring at the owner. Harry glared with the rest.

"Go on! Out! We're open again tomorrow," he spoke with the assured rudeness of one who knows that no matter what, people will always be back for more. The pub's patrons began a slow, slouching procession out the door, eyes moving appreciatively over the bar maid's form.

"Are you sure you should drink that?"

Harry turned his eyes towards a man sitting next to him, wondering why he hadn't noticed him before.

"Sorry?"

"No apologies necessary."

"What?"

"I said–"

"I heard what you said," Harry snapped. He glared but the man simply nodded and stared. Harry began to feel uncomfortable; the man's gaze was strangely penetrating. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd seen eyes so large.

"So?"

"So what?"

"So are you sure you should drink that?"

"I've never been less sure in my life!" Harry said merrily, raising his glass at the stranger.

"Gently now, son. You know what they say about alcohol."

"No, I don't know what they say about alcohol," Harry replied, bringing the glass to his lips.

"They say that when it comes to alcohol, lightning never strikes twice."

Harry choked on his mouthful of whiskey and had to fight the urge to flatten his hair over his forehead. Coughing loudly and with eyes streaming, he ignored the jeers of the other patrons and stared at the man, who stared calmly back.

"What?"

"Once is enough."

"Who the hell says that? Nobody says that!"

"Really?" The man looked at him in a way that Harry could only describe as disturbingly knowing. "It must be about something else then."

"Yes, it must be," Harry said slowly. Eyeing the man suspiciously, he downed the rest of his drink, grimacing at the taste as it burned its way down his throat. He tried to remember exactly why he had thought it would be a good idea to go out drinking again tonight. He rubbed at his eyes angrily. The man's eyes followed the motions of his hand with interest.

"Why don't you use radishes?"

"Radishes? For what?"

"For your eyes. They're very good for sore eyes, you know."

"Oh really?" Harry sneered. "How would a radish be bene– er – bene–"

"Beneficial?"

"That's the one. How would a radish be bene– er–"

"Not the whole radish of course," the man interrupted, "just the juice."

"Oh yeah? Well why don't you just take your radish and shove it up your–"

"It was just a suggestion. No need to get excited, Harry."

Harry froze in the motion of rubbing his eyes. "What did you call me?"

"I called you Harry. That _is_ your name, isn't it?"

"No, it isn't." Harry turned away and tried to focus on something else.

"Well, all the same, you best get some rest, Harry, you're starting to slur your words."

"Ha! I started slurring hours ago!" Harry slurred.

"I'm sure you did," he replied.

"All right, you two! That's enough! Get out!" shouted the owner. "Just look at the mess you've made, you bloody git!" He poked Harry in the chest before pointing at the large wet spot on the floor where Harry had choked out his drink. Before Harry could stutter his apologies the old man laughed congenially.

"Not to worry sir, I'm sure the mess will be gone in no time!"

"Oh really? And how do you suppose that'll happen?" the owner growled as he stomped off to yell at some other lingering patrons.

The old man turned to Harry and smiled dreamily. "Magic, I'd imagine." Harry hoped desperately that the instinctive reaction of paralysing fear didn't show on his face. "Well, it's been lovely talking to you but I really must fly. My daughter tends to worry if I'm out too late. Dark times, you know." He smiled at Harry again. "You take care, I'm sure we'll meet again." With that, he inclined his head slightly and turned away.

Harry watched through narrowed eyes as the man weaved his way through the crowd of people. Frowning at the man's back, he stood up quickly and wobbled slightly. Clutching desperately at the sticky surface of the bar, he watched as the bar maid leaned so far toward him her breasts brushed his knuckles.

"Don't worry, darlin'. We're always open for _you_." She raised her eyebrows in what Harry realised was a hint, but he couldn't figure out how he was supposed to respond. "Surely you're not ready to go home yet?" She leaned her face toward him, her breath hot against his cheek. "You could always stay _here_," she whispered in his ear. "On the house." She leaned back to look him in the eye. Harry still wasn't sure how to respond. After a few moments of confused silence, he settled for a muffled word of thanks, before glancing briefly at her breasts and stumbling out the door.

"Don't you worry, Vi," the owner said consolingly. "You'll get him tomorrow."

Vi pouted in disappointment and continued collecting glasses.

* * *

Harry stopped walking once he was outside, looking around him and feeling slightly confused as to how he got there. He started to weave an unsteady path toward where he thought his house was. He stopped again in the middle of what he recognised as the street his house was on when he saw a bright light in front of him. Harry blinked stupidly, wondering what on earth it was and how it was managing to move so quickly.

"Shit!" Harry cried. He turned to face the oncoming vehicle and realised that he had absolutely no idea what to do. "My wand!" Harry started grabbing at his pockets frantically and cursing loudly. He looked back at the car, his mind screaming at him to move, but his legs somehow misinterpreting the message. Suddenly he was flying through the air, the car passing beneath him with a loud honk. Harry slammed into the pavement on the other side of the street and immediately his stomach heaved. Pulling himself to his knees, he threw up all over the ground. He once again tried to remember why ending the evening retching loudly in the street had seemed like such a good idea earlier.

The silence of the street was disconcerting after the noise of the car, followed by the noise of him emptying the contents of his stomach. Harry looked around blearily, wondering how he had ended up where he did.

"The stars are bright tonight."

Harry, feeling distinctly empty, looked up quickly and closed his eyes against the pounding in his head. Wiping the back of his hand against his mouth and wincing at the feeling in his throat, he slowly opened his eyes. There she was, standing there plain as day in a long red coat and yellow gumboots.

"Luna?" he croaked.

"Hello, Harry."

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking after you, apparently. Did you know that that car almost hit you?"

"Yes, I did know that actually," he said dryly. Harry wondered fleetingly why she was wearing gumboots and a long woolly coat in the middle of a heat wave and when it hadn't rained in weeks. "Wait, was it you that threw me across the street?"

"Yes, it was. Did I hurt you?"

"No, I think it was the pavement that did most of the hurting," Harry said slowly. "But the throwing up part wasn't exactly pain-free either."

"Yes, I'd imagine so. But it could have been worse."

"You think so?"

"Oh, yes. You could have landed on your head, or you could have collided with that post–"

"Well the pavement was quite hard enough, thank you, Luna."

"Or you could have been pierced by that tree over there–"

"Thank you, Luna."

"Or you could have landed in that large pile of vomit–"

"Well, no actually, I couldn't have."

"Or you could have lost your wand–"

"I thought I had lost my wand."

"Or you could have been hit by the car."

"Where _is_ my wand?"

"Really, Harry, you didn't even break your glasses," Luna concluded sternly. "So, yes, it could have been a lot worse."

Harry opened his mouth to argue with her before coming to the abrupt realisation that he had absolutely no idea what the conversation had been about. There was an awkward pause where Luna stared unblinkingly at Harry and Harry didn't know quite where to look. His puddle of vomit was slowly inching its way towards him and he decided that he didn't want to be there when it reached his resting spot. Harry moved to his knees and stopped, allowing the world a few moments to obligingly stop spinning so wildly, before putting one foot flat on the ground. He stopped again to steady himself; the pounding in his head becoming quite insistent and movement of any kind was becoming something of a challenge.

Harry suddenly had the urge to laugh at the picture they must be making: Luna staring dreamily at him while he was down on one knee next to a pile of his own slow-moving vomit. Harry laughed loudly and almost toppled over. He steadied himself with a hand perilously close to the vomit and laughed again.

"What's funny?"

"You, me, us," Harry replied, still laughing. "How'd you find me, anyway?"

"I looked," Luna said simply. "The stars are bright tonight."

"Yes, they are," Harry replied, confused. Moving slowly, he got to his feet and looked Luna in the eye. "What are you doing here, Luna?"

"You live around here, don't you?"

"Er, I think so." Harry looked around him hopefully. "Yes, I do. Just over there." He pointed to a small house half way down the street.

Luna looked at it critically. "It's not really a place I'd expect you to live."

"Yes, well, that was kind of the point. I wasn't expecting people to be visiting."

"No, I don't suppose you would. Shall we go then?"

"Go? Go where?"

"To your house," Luna said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're certainly not in any shape to be wandering around."

"Well–"

"That car almost hit you."

"Yes–"

"And you really are quite drunk."

"I most certainly am not!" Harry drew himself up to his full height and tried desperately not to wobble.

"Besides, I could really do with some tea."

Harry glared at Luna and debated whether or not it was worth the trouble to argue the point. Sighing heavily, he said, "Okay, you've convinced me." Harry looked down at the mess at his feet, and wondered again where he'd put his wand.

"You really shouldn't leave that there," Luna said and extracted her wand from her coat. "Evanesco!" They watched the mess disappear. Harry hoped desperately that he could make it to his house without making a similar mess; Luna just cocked her head to the side, looking thoughtful. "Hmm, I wonder where that went."

"You're wondering where you banished my vomit to?"

"Yes."

"And I'm supposed to be the drunk one here?"

"It's a valid question, Harry. Have you never thought of it yourself?"

"Well – I, er… let's just go back to my place. We can talk some more there."

"Alright, I hope your house isn't too dusty."

"I'm sure there's some unknown creature lurking around somewhere, Luna." Harry turned away as he said this and began a slow and unsteady march down the street.

"You look rather funny, you know."

"Do I?" Harry said bitterly.

"Yes. Maybe you've been infected by something. I've heard that there's a bit of a problem with Chizpurfles around here."

"Chizpurfles?"

"Magical parasites. You should really get someone in to check your house. My father had ours checked."

"Did you find any?"

"No," Luna said happily, "but we're always well protected against these things. My father is something of an expert, you know."

"Yes, I've heard." Harry continued to look straight ahead, determined not to let Luna know just how much he'd had to drink. He was feeling a lot better, not quite as dazed and confused as before, but still rather drunk. He supposed that it had less to do with his fantastic healing abilities and more to do with the impromptu flight through the air and sudden acquaintance with the footpath. His side still hurt from where he fell but he didn't want Luna to know that either.

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Not enough," Harry mumbled.

"It's never enough, is it?"

Harry thought that the conversation was getting a little too serious for him to handle. He looked at Luna and noticed that she had her radish earrings on again.

"I like your earrings."

"Do you? I've had them for a long time now."

"Yes, I remember you wearing them at school."

"Radishes are handy things to have around, you know."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Especially if you have sore eyes."

"Sore eyes?" Harry laughed, unconvinced. "How does a radish help with sore eyes?"

"Not the whole radish."

"Of course not."

"Just its juice. When you have sore eyes you just dab a little radish juice around them."

"Oh." The conversation was stirring something in his memory. He felt like he'd had a conversation almost exactly like this not too long ago. "Right."

"It helps," Luna insisted.

"I'm sure it does," Harry mumbled distractedly.

They once again lapsed into a silence that Harry at least found uncomfortable. Glancing at Luna he realised that she had stopped walking and was staring at the sky again. Harry shook his head, confused.

"What's so fascinating up there tonight? Why do keep looking at the sky?"

"I'm looking at the stars," Luna corrected him patiently.

"The difference being?"

"The sky is always there, it's constant, you can always see it. The stars come and go, you have to wait for them."

"Right." Harry's head was hurting again. "My place is just up here."

"Oh, that's a relief. I don't think you'd be able to walk much further than that."

"Oh yeah?" Harry said before promptly rolling his eyes at just how pathetic he sounded. He stomped angrily up the path, not looking to see if Luna was following him. He got to his door and dug his hands in his pockets looking for his keys. Luna came up beside him, staring critically at his door.

"Oh, it's not nearly as bad as it looks."

"Wonderful," Harry said through gritted teeth, still searching for his keys. "Damn it. Accio keys!" Harry smiled in relief when his keys flew through the air and landed in his hand.

"I thought you couldn't find your wand."

"I didn't use my wand."

"Wandless magic?" Harry grunted in response. "That must be quite useful."

"I suppose so." He made quite a show of fumbling with his keys, trying to buy some more time. He was aware that she was staring at him and he was afraid to meet her eyes, instead he dropped his keys again. Kneeling down to retrieve them, he noticed that her gumboots had purple dots on them. Smiling again he stood up quickly and almost knocked himself out on the windowsill.

"You're a little clumsy today, aren't you?" Luna said lightly.

"Something like that," Harry replied sourly, rubbing his head. He forced the key into the lock angrily and pushed the door open. He took a step inside the hallway and flicked the light on. When he turned to face Luna he had a sudden rush of guilt at how rudely he was behaving. "Please come in," he said more politely.

Luna smiled brightly and stepped into the hallway. She turned to face Harry and smiled again. Harry realised for the first time just how small this hall was and blushed when he realised just how close Luna was to him. Clearing his throat nervously he turned and walked away, signalling for Luna to follow him. He turned the light on in his kitchen and moved toward the stove. Glancing behind him, he saw Luna standing in the doorway, staring curiously at him.

"Tea?"

"Thank you."

"Have a seat, it won't take long."

"Thank you," she said again and moved to take one of only three seats at the table. She balanced precariously on the edge and frowned slightly when it wobbled. Harry winced and moved over to where she was sitting.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled, pulling out one of the sturdier chairs. "Sit in this one, I think it's safer."

Luna silently complied, moving to the chair he offered her. When she was comfortable, she folded her hands in her lap and looked up at him, smiling blandly. Harry smiled back and moved back toward the stove.

"I'm sorry about the state of this place," he said as he filled the kettle with water. "I'm not home much you see and it's only ever me here so it hardly seems worth it to fix things up."

"I understand completely, Harry. Some things don't seem worth your effort at first, but with time you come to realise what needs to be done."

Harry doubted very much that she did understand completely, she seemed to be taking this particular conversation a little too seriously. He shook his head before starting the kettle. He thought over the events of the evening: drinking in the pub, that strange man with the large eyes, nearly being hit by the car and then–

"How did you find me?" Harry looked over his shoulder to see Luna staring at the wall.

"I looked," she told the wall.

"Yes, you said that–"

"And it's still true."

"But–"

"The kettle's boiled," Luna interrupted him.

Sighing, Harry turned his head back to the stove and removed the kettle. He took two mugs out of the cupboard, barely noticing that one was without a handle.

"How do you like it?"

"Black, no sugar."

Harry didn't bother pouring milk in his. He picked up both mugs and walked over to where Luna was sitting, sliding the mug with the handle towards her.

"So–" Harry began.

"Yes?"

"Er–"

"Yes?"

"How have you been?"

"Very well, thank you. And yourself?"

"I've been better," Harry said seriously.

"I don't doubt it," Luna said, equally seriously. "Have you seen anyone?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I just haven't felt like it," Harry said defensively.

"It's a little selfish, you know," Luna said thoughtfully.

"What?"

"A lot of people miss you."

"Well–"

"They're your friends."

"Yes–"

"They're worried about you." Harry was beginning to squirm uncomfortably in his seat.

"Look, Luna–"

"I spoke to Ginny today."

Harry blinked in confusion. "What?"

"I spoke to Ginny today."

"Oh," Harry said weakly, "how is she?"

"She seemed fine. Happy."

"That's nice."

"I think she's got a new boyfriend."

Harry's heart began beating painfully fast. "Yeah?" he croaked.

"Yes. In fact, I think they've been together for quite some time. Ginny said it had almost been six months now."

Harry's mouth suddenly felt dry. He tried to swallow and think at the same time; it proved to be too much for him. He settled for swallowing.

"Are you alright?" Luna asked gently.

"Peachy," Harry choked out. Having got past the swallowing, he was stuck firmly on the thinking. Ginny had been with this guy for almost six months; he had only left the wizarding world seven months ago. Sure, he had left her for a second time, but surely their relationship had meant more to her than that. _How much did it mean to you?_ a nasty little voice said in Harry's mind. He scowled.

"Anyway, I don't think I like him very much."

"Really?" Harry said eagerly. A little too eagerly. Harry chided himself for acting so possessive. He had no claim to Ginny, he reminded himself. Not only that but it had been his choice to walk away. Again. He had no right to act the way he was. With these stern thoughts in mind, he resolved to suck it up and ask Luna with the utmost civility about Ginny's new boyfriend, the miserable git. Just as he drew breath to pursue this noble cause however, the lights flickered off. Luna looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, tilting her head. Harry just sighed. _Saved by the electrical fault_, he thought.

"Lumos," he said quietly and a soft glow lit the room. "I hate it when that happens."

"Does it happen often?" Luna asked curiously, now looking up at the glowing ball of light hovering above them.

"No, not so much any more. It used to happen a lot, but I've er … tinkered with it a little."

"With magic?"

"Yes."

"I see," Luna said slowly, still gazing at the ceiling. Harry couldn't help but notice how nice her skin looked in this light. Shaking his head slightly at this bizarre turn of thought, he focused on his mug. Luna shifted slightly in her chair and Harry looked up curiously. He searched her face as she sipped her tea. Her eyes were downcast and her hair was falling messily across her forehead. When she lowered her mug, Harry found himself staring at her lips in a not-altogether-platonic way as they curved upwards in a smile. He quickly turned his attention back to his tea, hoping she wouldn't notice the blush staining his cheeks.

"Why are you here, Harry?"

"Huh?"

"I asked you why you're here, Harry."

"I heard you, I just didn't understand you."

"It's really not that difficult. Why did you choose this as your hiding place?"

"I am not hiding!" Harry said indignantly.

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm just trying to figure things out, that's all."

"What things?"

"My life. My future. My past." Harry laughed bitterly. "Everything. I need to figure out what I want. I need to be able to figure out things for myself before I go back to the wizarding world to listen to everyone else try to figure it out for me. That's why I'm here." He met her eyes defiantly. "_Not_to run away and certainly not to avoid whatever responsibility people have decided I somehow now hold. Is it so wrong that I just want to try my luck at being Harry?" he asked her, almost pleadingly. "Just Harry. Not Harry 'The Boy Who Lived' Potter. Not the destroyer of Lord Voldemort. Not Lily and James' son. Just Harry."

"A lonely and drunk Harry," Luna pointed out.

"A lonely and drunk Harry, perhaps, but just Harry all the same. I am sick of being stared at! I am sick of being pointed out to people as if I am some kind of an amusement they can watch briefly, just to see if I do something interesting!" Harry realized he had been yelling and lowered his voice. "Luna, don't you see what I'm getting at?"

"Yes, I do," she conceded quietly. "But where does the excessive amount of alcohol come into this whole 'finding yourself' thing?"

"What do you know about my drinking habits?" Harry said defensively.

"Everyone knows, Harry. It's been all over the _Daily Prophet_ for months, ever since you disappeared. _Unnamed sources confirm that they've seen Harry Potter drinking for hours at a Muggle establishment in central London_." Harry groaned, but Luna wasn't finished. "_Fallen hero!_ _Can anyone help Harry?_"

"Damn it." Harry put his head down on the table. "How much do they know?"

"Not much, I shouldn't think. Most of it seems to be completely made up. They said you were flooing across the country from pub to pub, but you seem to have just stayed at the one bar."

"Well, that's ridiculous. Anyone who knows me knows I don't floo anywhere if I can help it," Harry mumbled.

"Yes, well most people don't know you very well." Luna put her hand on top of Harry's on the table. "The people who _do_ are dismissing the claims as often as possible." She stopped and laughed. "Ron nearly cursed Tobias today."

Harry's head shot up. "Ron nearly cursed who?"

"Tobias."

"Who's Tobias?" he asked as casually as he could.

"Ginny's boyfriend."

"What's he like?"

"He seems nice enough."

"Yes, but you said you didn't like him much," Harry pressed.

"That's because I _don't_ like him very much" Luna said patiently, removing her hand from his. "I think you'd like him, though."

"Doubtful."

"No, he's nice."

"Yeah? Then why don't you like him?" Harry didn't care how belligerent he sounded.

"He just wasn't very pleasant."

"You just said he was!" Harry cried impatiently.

"No, I said he was nice."

"How can someone be nice but unpleasant at the same time?"

"Easily. You're managing it very well at the moment." Harry began spluttering in protest. "The _point_ is, he said some things that weren't very nice about _you_ and so I decided not to like him," Luna finished calmly.

"You _decided_ not to like him?" Harry asked incredulously. "Wait, me? What did he say about me?"

"Nothing much," Luna replied placidly. "Just the same stuff everyone's been saying about you, stuff they read in the _Daily Prophet._"

"You mean how I'm a crazy, drunken lay about?" Harry said bitterly.

"Yes. Ron didn't seem particularly happy about it. He started screaming about how wrong Tobias was."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"And Ginny?"

"What about her?"

"What did Ginny do?" Harry was losing the fight to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"She tried to calm Ron down, of course."

"Oh." Harry tried to convince himself that that did _not_ disappoint him. "Of course."

"He really was making quite a scene."

Harry smiled slightly at his friend's loyalty. "Where was all of this taking place?"

"The Leaky Cauldron. I ran into the Weasleys on my way back from Diagon Alley. Well, not all the Weasleys. Just Ron and Ginny and Hermione. And Tobias, of course."

"What were you doing in Diagon Alley?" Harry asked, hoping for a change of subject. He hadn't devoted a lot of thought to Ginny in the past couple of months; he'd been too consumed with his quest for the highly esteemed and widely coveted title of Self-Pitying Champion of the World.

"My father needed some ingredients for a potion he's brewing and I needed to get some new dress robes." Luna smiled suddenly. "There's going to be a ball at Hogwarts soon. I'm really looking forward to it actually. I love to dance."

Harry smiled fondly at her enthusiasm. "That's great, Luna. I'm not much of a dancer myself but I'm not completely against _other_ people doing it. What's the ball for?"

"I think it's just a reason to celebrate," Luna said quietly. "It's been a hard year."

"Yeah, it has," Harry agreed. "Is it just a school thing or are other people invited?"

"School thing, but former students are allowed to come as well. All the students that have graduated in the last five years have been invited."

"I wasn't."

"You weren't?"

"No, I didn't receive any invitation for a ball at Hogwarts."

"Maybe the owl couldn't find you," Luna said doubtfully. "But you could come anyway, I'm sure the Headmistress wouldn't mind."

"Well, I–"

"You'd be able to see a lot of people you haven't seen in ages."

"Yes, well, that would be a reason why I _wouldn't _want to go,"

"Ginny will be there, of course," Luna continued, unperturbed by Harry's reluctance. "She's got new dress robes–"

"Luna–"

"She's also been talking about getting some diamonds together."

"Really? Diamonds?" Harry asked, smiling. "I'm sure she'd look beautiful in diamonds. She once told me that she liked diamonds. Not because they were shiny or pretty or popular, but because they're natural. She said she liked them because they were beautiful and all of that, but they weren't made by people. She liked them because they couldn't be made by people."

"They can."

"What?" Harry said, put off somewhat that she had cut short his bout of nostalgia.

"They can easily be made by people. Well, people with magical ability anyway."

"Wizards can make diamonds?"

"Stone to stone transfiguration," Luna said simply. "It's not difficult, we've been learning about it this year. That's how she's getting diamonds for this ball, she's going to transfigure them."

"I didn't learn about that when I was at Hogwarts!" Harry cried indignantly.

"We haven't either, not diamonds _specifically_. We've been learning the basics of stone-to-stone transfiguration, that's all."

"If it's really that simple, why did she tell me that it couldn't be done? Why lie about something like that? It doesn't make sense; it's not even a particularly impressive thing!" Harry wondered why he was getting so worked up about something so simple. He glared angrily at the table. "Who cares if someone likes diamonds because they're _natural_? Lots of people do, that doesn't make them better people." Harry looked up to see Luna looking at him strangely; this did nothing to improve his temper. "I thought that she wouldn't care about stuff like that."

"Stuff like what?"

"Impressing me. I thought she was above all that," Harry said angrily.

"Are you sure about that, Harry?"

"I thought I was." Harry's anger was deflating quickly.

"No, I mean are you sure that that is what she meant by what she said? Are you sure you're not looking for a reason to resent her?"

"Why would I resent her?"

"Because she's moved on and you haven't," Luna said simply.

"I have!"

"A quick look at a bar maid's chest hardly counts as moving on," she said sternly.

"I've tried," Harry said, unable to meet Luna's eye. "But whiskey is hardly a substitute for a woman."

"The same way a fake diamond is never a substitute for a real pearl," she replied solemnly.

"What?" Harry raised his eyes, quite involuntarily, to look at Luna again. "What do you mean by that?"

Luna smiled at him. "A fake, transfigured diamond does not have the same durability as the real thing. It can scratch and lose some of its shine, after not that long of a time, either. A fake diamond looks good to begin with and it is only with close inspection that you can see it for what it really is. Besides, real diamonds are easily obtained if you have enough money." Harry just stared at her, slightly open-mouthed. "Pearls, on the other hand," Luna continued, either unaware of or unconcerned by Harry's strange behaviour, "are regularly tampered with in some way or other. Most of the 'real' pearls that are for sale are in actual fact formed with a significant amount of human intervention. A _true_ pearl, one that requires no outside intervention, is a rarity indeed."

"A rarity along the lines of a Crumple-Horned Snorcack?" Harry asked in an attempt to lighten tone of the conversation.

Luna narrowed her eyes at him. "Pearls don't shine as bright when they're made to suit an image, Harry." She cocked her head to one side and seemed to be considering him intently. "Pearls are very much like people in that respect. When they're forced to conform to someone else's desires they are no better than any number of fake diamonds."

Harry couldn't decide if he thought that Luna was being amazingly insightful or amazingly daft. He took a sip of his tea while he considered her, grimacing at how cold it was.

"I suppose so, but that's like everything, isn't it?" he said finally. "Nothing shines as bright as it used to." Harry frowned at the bitterness in his voice. _Where did that come from?_

"It would be foolish to hope for everything to remain the same, Harry. Things need to change."

"I don't expect things _not _to change," Harry said sadly. "I just didn't expect things to change _this _much." He gestured around the room at his sparse furnishings.

Luna followed the movements of his hand with her eyes. With a small sigh she said, "It doesn't have to be like this. You know it doesn't."

"How else can it be, Luna? Are you here to make it easier for me?"

"No," she smiled, "I'm here to save you from speeding vehicles."

Harry caught her eye and smiled. He'd missed her, there was no point denying it. He'd missed a lot of people from the wizarding world. But that still didn't explain her sudden appearance. He frowned again at the thought.

"How _did_ you find me, Luna?"

"You were speaking to my father earlier in the bar." Her smile dimmed slightly. "I came to make sure he got home safely and I found you to be in need of my help more."

"So you didn't actually come looking for me?" Harry refused to be disappointed by this. "You just happened to see me talking to your father?"

"Not exactly," Luna said quietly.

"What does that mean?"

"My father wanted to find you. I helped him look."

"What interest does your father have in me? Looking for an exclusive?"

"No."

"No? Looking for some incriminating evidence?" Harry said forcefully. "I can see the headline in _The Quibbler_ now: _Harry Potter's fall from grace, now with colour pictures_!"

"No," Luna said firmly. "Harry, please just listen to me–"

"I'm trying, Luna. But you see there's a slight problem with that: you're not _saying_ anything." Harry paused and peered at her curiously. "Hang on, I've met your father before, why didn't I recognise him?"

"He was using a small glamour so that you wouldn't. With the way you've been drinking lately we figured that it was unlikely that he'd need more than that."

Harry snorted and said, "But that doesn't answer my question."

"Yes it does."

"My other question, Luna. Why did your father want to find me, if not for an interview?"

Luna sighed wearily. "We weren't looking for you to ask for an interview. My father wanted to see you again and make sure you were okay. That's all."

"What? Why?"

"He wanted to see for himself if all the rumours were true," Luna said quickly. "My father doesn't like going only on what other people say. He likes to think for himself and come to his own conclusions." She had a distinct note of pride in her voice.

"Unfortunately, not many people seem to be too concerned with the truth. As long as they get to read what they want to read and believe ridiculous lies about perfect strangers, they're happy."

"That's quite a sweeping generalisation, Harry."

"What difference does it make? People are happier when they can assume I'm abnormal. They have to look at me like I'm different in order to 'understand' me."

"I know the feeling," Luna said quietly. "Sometimes I just think that people are more comfortable with me being different. Seeing similarities between us might be a little too confronting for them." She smiled and let go of his hand. Harry had forgotten that she was even holding it. "I'm not ashamed of being different no matter how much people might want me to be."

"You shouldn't ever be ashamed, Luna," Harry said seriously. "Not you. Never."

"That might be the alcohol talking. I wonder if you'll feel like this in the morning."

"I imagine the only difference will be the throbbing pain in my head," he said wryly. "Other than that, I don't think I'll be changing my mind."

There was a moment of silence as they both sipped their tea.

"Harry," Luna said suddenly, "you said earlier that whiskey isn't a substitute for a woman."

"Yeah."

"Did you mean it wasn't a substitute for any woman or for Ginny in particular?"

"Oh, well–" Harry wasn't quite sure how to answer that. "I guess I meant it would hardly be a substitute for any woman's company."

"You guess? You don't know?"

"Well, I'm not really looking for a substitute for Ginny."

"No? Are you looking for a replacement for Ginny?"

"Honestly? A bit of happiness would do me fine."

"What would make you happy?"

"You make me happy." Harry glanced up quickly to catch Luna's surprised look. He ducked his head in an attempt to hide his blush. "Well, what I mean is–"

"You make me happy too, Harry." Harry's head snapped up so fast he was worried he might have hurt his neck. Luna smiled at him. "After all, friends should try to make each other happy."

"Oh yeah," he forced a smile in return. "Friends. Right."

"I know that a friend is no substitute for a woman either–"

"You're a woman."

"Yes, but that's not what I meant Harry. To you I am a friend first and a woman second. I could never be a substitute for Ginny."

"I'd never want you to be a substitute for Ginny!" Luna looked surprised at the vehemence in his tone. "I mean," Harry continued more quietly, "that you're more than that. You could never just be a substitute."

"It's very nice of you to say so."

"It's the truth."

"People don't always tell the truth," Luna pointed out.

"Yeah, so I've heard." Harry looked up and saw Luna staring at her mug. "Thank you for helping me out tonight."

"You're welcome." She looked up and caught his eye. "You know, you really shouldn't drink so much. You might end up doing something you regret."

"Like getting hit by a car?" Harry joked weakly.

"Something like that." Luna was eyeing him shrewdly and Harry shifted under the scrutiny. "Well," she said finally, "I better get going. It's getting late."

"Oh," Harry said, disappointed. "Right. Well, er, I'll show you out then, shall I?"

"Yes, I suppose you shall."

Luna stood up and Harry followed suit. He led the way back out into hallway and to the front door, once again he was struck by how narrow his hallway was. He pulled the door open and Luna stepped outside. She turned to look at him.

"Well–"

"You can stay if you want to, Luna," Harry blurted out.

Luna only raised her eyebrows and said, "I have to go back."

"Please stay," Harry found himself pleading, "I'd really like it if you did."

"I would too, Harry." She brought a hand up to his face and touched his scar, Harry didn't move. "But I don't belong here."

"You could belong here," Harry hesitated, "with me."

"No, Harry."

"Luna, please–"

"No." Luna's tone was final and much firmer than Harry was used to hearing from her. She dropped her hand from his face and he hung his head. "You're drunk, you'll regret all of this in the morning. Besides, you don't really belong here either." Harry started to protest but she held up a hand to silence him. "I'm going home. Thank you for the tea, Harry. It was lovely seeing you again."

"You're welcome." Harry wondered where this sudden desperation for her company had come from. "Come back any time," he added hopefully.

"That's very kind of you. You're welcome to come back any time too," Luna said seriously. "You could come to the ball at Hogwarts."

"I don't know," Harry said uncertainly.

"Everyone would love to see you."

"Yeah, well–"

"_I _would love to see you."

"You would?"

"Yes." A slow smile spread over her face. "If you really haven't received an invitation you can always come as my guest. We can go together. As friends."

"I'll think about it," Harry said. "I promise."

Luna nodded. "Good, because it's your turn to find _me_, Harry. You know where I'll be."

"Right where I left you? Outshining all the fake diamonds of our world?" Luna beamed. Harry blushed. "I bet you'll be looking on unconcernedly as loads of lovesick wizards fight over them all." Harry snorted. "They can have their diamonds."

"And we'll have our pearls."

Harry smiled at her. "Yes, Luna." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek lightly. "We'll have our pearls."

She took his hand and squeezed it once before walking back onto the street. She turned to look back at him and waved her hand in farewell.

Harry sighed as she disappeared with a loud _crack_ and stood still for a minute after she was gone, thinking hard. He turned around to go back inside and caught a glimpse of something wooden next to the mat in front of the door, bending down he realised it was his wand. Wondering briefly how it got there, he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. Smiling again, he tucked the wand into his back pocket and went back into the house, closing the door behind him.


End file.
